


always.

by laevatein



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, i'm in fucking hell over this pairing ok, like life is destroyed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laevatein/pseuds/laevatein
Summary: Years of servitude have tied them together, and lately his emotions have dared to tread into dangerous notions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I cry on a daily basis over these two now, so you're gonna suffer with me now.

It’s another late night of scattered pages and attempting to understand details that he would more than likely forget within a day’s time. Even then he _tries_ because it’s half-expected of him and half what he wants to do.

_Will he ever be good enough?_

The question evokes itself often in these times, ink scrawling along the edge of a notebook and trying not to think of the future.

_Focus on the moment._

A faint aroma of ebony draws him from the spiraling downfall of an inner turmoil rising. Ignis’ arrival is unforeseen on this Thursday evening.

If anything it off-sets another problem of sorts. Chewing on the edge of his pen for a moment, Noctis contemplates if he should acknowledge the arrival and all the feelings that come tied to it.

It’s not to say he’s unhappy with the visit, more of... _anxious_. Years of servitude have tied them together, and lately his emotions have dared to tread into dangerous notions. Each time a smile is shown or their hands happen to touch it only drags him further into that aching longing for _more._

More than just **this** \- than just someone who sees him as a _prince_ and nothing beyond that.

The question is answered for him though in the form of his adviser peering around the corner, seeing the mass of dark hair and entering the living room properly.

“Good evening your highness.”

“ _Noctis._ ”

The reply is quick, one of which brought about their previous conversation a few days ago. Ignis corrects himself as he finds it difficult to adjust to the change of a proper title to simply a name. It’s...rather personal in a way, as if an invisible wall has been breached.

“Noctis - how are your studies coming along?”

“Good enough I guess.”

Rolling over onto his back he stares up at the ceiling, hearing how Ignis steps closer to take a seat on the end of the couch nearby. It has them closer than before to where all he has to do is tilt his head up to meet hazel eyes resting on him.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you had training tonight or something.”

“It was actually a report I was working on and finished so I figured...I would drop by to check on how you were faring.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

It’s then that _smile_ shows, the one that brings his resolve to the edge of breaking every damn time. Swallowing uneasily, a hasty aversion is made as dark blue stares at the ceiling once more.

“I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

“I suppose...I worry.” There’s something in Ignis’ tone that eludes to a hidden meaning even then though, almost as if he’s trying to find the right way to _say_ what he intends.

“I’m fine.”

“...Are you really?”

Somehow the reality of his life is displayed more clearly in these moments where they don’t reveal their hands entirely. As if breaching the surface is enough to **know** of the weight that is there. Noctis knows of his path. He knows of the mortality that wanes each day for his father and the people of Lucis.

Ignis is there to help as much as possible, but even still the weight feels as if it grows heavier still. Even with recognizing why that is, he can never bring himself to breathe life into the words that _need_ to be said. Reaching out for help feels impossible, not when it comes with the possibility of rejection.

“Fine enough.”

“I would prefer to do better than  _‘enough’_.”

Brows furrow, heart rate picking up at how Ignis moves from the couch to take a seat on the floor next to him.

“Please talk to me, rest your burden on me as well. I am not here simply as an adviser but also as a friend.”

Feelings such as these were not something he could broadcast. They go against everything he’s been brought up on. The idea of marriage never truly being based on love but convenience. It _hurts_ in a way.

“I want things I can’t have.”

“What could you possibly want that you cannot have?”

“Besides...obvious things...there are feelings I have that I shouldn’t.”

“...How so?”

It’s then the nights of loneliness overrule any sense of understanding. Watching Ignis leave, hearing the door close as if to echo back to the prospect of even more desolate days ahead. Rooms crowded with people leave him in a void of only wishing to scream.

_Is this really his life?_

A quiet desperation drives him forward. Steadily he shifts up, swallowing down the nervousness as best he can before reaching a hand up. Fingers trace at the edge of a button down shirt, finding Ignis’ gaze as if to reveal the first traces of the longing that plagues him.

Though it doesn’t end there. Cheeks darken, head tilting in to present the truth in the form of a gentle kiss along those lips that often captivated him with mere words.

What Noctis expects is to be pushed away, to be reprimanded for how he’s going against his duty. Ignis would remind him they are bound _solely_ by the means of the crown, to bring about a better future for the kingdom. That he must remember the princess, the ties of politics, and upholding the legacy of Lucis.

What he doesn’t expect is how a hand shifts into his hair, holding him close to be drawn into a deeper kiss. Noctis can feel tears prickle his eyes already, the return of such intimacy making his heart feel complete in an instant.

It’s in the parting for breath that Ignis mutters in a low whisper, staring at Noctis and showing nothing but adoration. Seeing beyond a prince but to the very secrets held within, touching upon them to heal them with a confession.

“Pray the gods forgive me...but I cannot deprive you of this. Not when my feelings align with your own.”

“Ignis...”

It’s all he can bring himself to say, as if the name alone carries over the years of watching and waiting. Hope lost only to be found in how gloved fingers trace his cheek to wipe away stray tears.

“I’m yours...I always have been.”

“Always?”

Noctis can barely manage to question while leaning in once more, finding further affirmation in how Ignis kisses him again and again.


End file.
